


Every Waking Moment

by tinyjew



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst, I'm Sorry, M/M, Someone please help Will Graham
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-28
Updated: 2015-06-28
Packaged: 2018-04-06 13:58:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4224339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinyjew/pseuds/tinyjew
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will reflects on his past</p>
            </blockquote>





	Every Waking Moment

"Do you miss him?"

Will sat on his porch, head bowed and Winston curled next to his thigh, head in his lap. He nodded quietly.

Brian shuffled somewhat nervously, and tossed Will a sympathetic look.

He didn't need sympathy. He surely didn't need it now. No, all Will Graham needed was something that had been lost for far too long.

The other ruffled the fur of another dog before clearing his throat. "Do you think of him often?"

Will's heart ached.

-

A few days after Will arrived in Italy, he had found him. He had found him again.

"Hannibal," he smiled, relief washing over him. "You're here."

"So are you," Hannibal smiled sweetly at him, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he looked down at the other. "Hello Will."

And Will could do nothing more then wave, that goofy smile still on his face. His blue eyes watched as Hannibal decendes the stairs, looking just as well-dressed and perfect as Will had seen him before. (Not last of course, there had been too much blood for that, but Will forgave the man, simply because he loved him.)

Hannibal beamed at the other and gathered him in a swift hug, holding the other in his arms. It was soft and safe, secure. Unlike their last embrace, which was cold and close. It had left them a tangle of limbs as Will clung to Hannibal as life support. But now, their breaths mingled and their arms were around one another. Neither could stop smiling, nor did they want to.

A sharp crack rang throughout the hall, making Will go rigid.

And that's when Hannibal stumbled forward, letting a small gasp escape his lips. Will looked up in worry, blue eyes going wide and locking with maroon. Hannibal's face contorted into one of pain and his arms gripped onto Will's forearms with brutal force. The older man stumbled forward, resting his head on Will's shoulder and gasping for breath. 

Suddenly they were in opposite situation, Hannibal clinging onto Will for support as Will held onto him for dear life.

The elder had sank to the ground and took Will with him.

"Hannibal?" Will looked at him, fear radiating from them both. "Hannibal!"

Another shot rang through, making the other let out an audible gasp on pain. 

Will shot his head up in the direction of the noise and cradled Hannibal closer to him. His eyes narrowed at the man he had been so willing to call a friend. 

Jack Crawford showed no pity in seeing Will holding the shot body of Hannibal Lecter.

But his attention wasn't held by Jack for long, because Hannibal was spasming in his arms.

Desperately, he tore off his jacket and held it to the two wounds, the one in his back and the one in his neck. Blood coated Will's hands from where they gushed from the wounds. Blood he didn't want on his hands.

Hannibal looked up to Will with an enormous amount of calm plastered over his sharp features. His tan face had paled considerably, and he managed a weak smile at the profiler. 

"Will," he gasped, his eyes going unfocused. "Will, stop."

"Stop what?! You're dying, I have to sav-"

"No, please." Hannibal looked at him with such raw enotion that it made Will gasp. The other reached up and stroked the streams of tears that ran from Will's eyes with the pad of his thumb. "Stop."

Will sobbed, clinging onto the man a little tighter. "No, no I can't."

"You can," he urged, fisting the front of Will's shirt in his hands. He shook and shuddered. Blood poured from his wounds, seeping through the his jeans to the younger mans legs. 

Hannibal started to cry.

It was something Will had never seen before, and it only made the pain in his heart hurt even more.

"Will." he cried. His breath came in raggedly, between short gasps. His dark eyes swam in fear, and tears fell from his beautifully angled face. 

"No, no, no," he shook his head. "Hannibal just hang on please, just..just please. You can't."

Hannibal seemed to be calming down, eyes fixating on Will's. He held up a hand weakly, which Will took in his own. "I'm so sorry." he murmured softly. "For everything."

"Hannibal shit, no, no, please. It's fine you'll be fine!"

"Will-"

"I'll fix you up you'll live, we can get through this, I promise Hannibal please-"

"Will!" his voice gasped out. His eyes no longer carried the fear they had earlier, but were laced with comfort and sadness. "Stop. I'm going to die. And I'll be able to see Mischa again." the older man sighed quietly and relaxed against Will's body.

"No."

It was quiet, and broken, but still quite clear. 

Hannibal struggled to smile. "So persistent." his voice was dangerously low. "I've always loved that."

They locked eyes.

"No, please."

"I love you, Will Graham."

"Hannibal!"

The life had faded from the mans eyes. The deep pools of colour had faded, glassed over. The small smile remained on his lips and his hands released their grip on Will's shirt.

He sobbed, kissing the face if the one he loved, who's body was rapidly going cold. "I love you too, I love you. I-"

"Will, he's dead."

He ignored Jack, ignored Hannibal's killer. Will continued to stroke the blond hair and clutch onto the body, whispering declarations of love to deaf ears.

"I did it for everyone's own good." Jack said to him. "You have to understand."

Will understood. The world had been rid of a killer. But what Will had taken from him hurt far more then anything he could've imagined.

And as he was roughly pulled from Hannibal Lecter's cold form, screaming and thrashing, he knew he'd feel it for the rest of his life.

-

Brian looked at him with a pained expression. He'd lost someone too. He remembered the icy pain he'd felt when Beverly died, the endless nights he'd spent crying.

He remembered, and thats what was important.

Will finally looked up from Winston and smiled sadly, staring out into the forest. As if he expected to see something.

'Do you think of him often?'

The question hurt, it stabbed needles into his heart.

But it was an easy question.

"I do." a slight pause, and Will blinked away the burning in his eyes. "Every waking moment."


End file.
